Upon Thy Valentines Lips
by BookishTea
Summary: Time is meant to be shared with one another, and cherished lovingly on Valentine's Day; a gift. (Clydeman)


It was a chilly day, that Valentines. Upon the slowly melting snow was a lavish shade of pink, like summertime rose petals crushed and tossed into the breeze. This vibrant colouring stained the icy terrain, smeared by lazy fingers with an omnipotent artist's mind. Icicles hung from the lips of the house roofs, a plethora of frozen teeth, each jagged and transparent as they dripped fat droplets of water.

If caution was not taken, this landscape could suddenly become dangerous. The citizens of South Park were accustomed to this, they bore the threat with heavy footsteps, well placed as they went on with their day.

For newcomers of the town, it was harder to manage, which seemingly always happens when you visit other places. That inherent feeling that you aren't quite apart of anything, the fleeting image of a rippling lake's mirror. Quaint corner cafes eased this, the dark heady and expensive smell of coffee enough to distract any.

Similar was the festive season, a joy that smoothed over the edges of the town's barely veiled disinterest of any visitors.

Art stores and rainy day cupboards were emptied of stacks of colourful papers, glitter, fuzzy bits and ends, along with any ribbons, or fake flowers that could be scavenged.

The town couldn't be decorated as most hoped, but bouquets of flowers were stuck in the snow where they could appear semi-neat. The interiors of the stores were much better, and through the veined touch of ice on the glass, one could peer into a warm glow.

Eric emerged from such a satisfying place, immediately shivering when he stepped onto the snowy sidewalk with a pout. Clutched tightly in his hands was a small present, wrapped in cherry red and entwined with silver ribbon. The contents of which had cost him a pretty penny, but for the reaction he hoped to see...it'd be worth it.

He cast one lingering glance, wondering if he had purchased enough, before he started onwards to his destination. The crunching of snow underfoot signalling his journey for all to hear.

* * *

Clyde sighed deeply as he stepped inside his home, letting the door mutely fall to a close.

"I'm back!" he called, setting the package on the entryway table as he unbuttoned his jacket, peeling off the fond thick fabric to put it away in the hall closet, where he slipped his boots into. He slid the door back into place and grabbed his package once more before he headed into the living room, questioning if the silence meant no one was home.

Oddly enough, as he neared the living room, a cracking pop sound teased his hearing. His face was fixed into a confused frown as he entered the joined room, already checking to see if anything was out of place.

Immediately his heart leapt to his throat, and he gripped his chest in astonishment.

Small decorative pillows he'd never seen before were scattered on the floor, enveloping the lounging form of Eric Cartman as he reclined before the tv. The screen had been changed to the fireplace channel, which sparked a warm light that went well with the snow encrusted lands outside.

What drew his attention besides the wrapped box beside him, so similar to his own, was the expensive wine glasses with a sangria liquid filled to the brim.

"Uh..."

Eric twisted around, smiling as he said, "Oh, I wasn't expecting you Clyde."

"You're in my home.."

"Yes well...why don't you just sit down?" He patted the space beside him, and reluctantly in his fuzzy socks, Clyde made his way over. A small grunt escaped him as he plopped down, wary of when the liquid in the glasses rippled at the movements.

"Is that wine?"

Surprisingly Eric appeared flustered at the question, scratching the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. "N-no, I couldn't...it's grape juice."

"Oh..." Clyde reached for the glass closest to him, cautious if it'd spill over and stain the carpet as he brought it to his lips. A sip revealed that it was in fact juice, and for some strange reason, Clyde craved crackers and cheese to go with the sugary beverage.

"Clyde?"

"Hmm?" He set his glass down to the side, mindful to remember its placement as he faced his guest once more.

"What do you have there?" Eric gestured towards the package he'd been carrying. He swallowed the lump in his throat, hands sweating as he passed it over the other boy.

"I-it's for you"

Greedily Eric's chubby fingers started ripping the gift to shreds as soon as it was placed in his hands, it didn't take very long for its contents to be revealed. Clyde winced, unable to watch Eric's reaction. He occupied himself by counting the thread of the carpet, not looking up even at the cry of astonishment from the other.

"Holy shit! This is so fucking rad!"

Wrapped around in thin paper was a plushie, stout form mirroring his own. The racoon themed superhero stared back at him, mouth stitched into a permanent smirk. Every little detail, it was all here!

"I...I know how much you like the Coon, so I thought.."

"It's..." Eric cleared his throat, "... _I love it_. Thank you!"

Clyde blushed, but unable to hold back any longer asked, "So, what's that? Is it for me?" Pointing towards the box wrapped in red by the other's side.

Eric nodded, passing it over. Keenly he was aware of how nervous he was, watching as his present was unravelled. Clyde withdrew the t-shirt with glee, reading aloud the golden text that sprawled across the fabric.

"Weekend Forecast, 100% Chance of Tacos" Encircling the words was the named food, each looking realistic and delectable.

"I also got you something else..."

Clyde set the shirt down in his lap, confused when he was passed an expensive scrap of paper. Heavy and creamy, it vaguely smelt of Cheesy Poofs.

"I wrote it last night, it isn't the best, but..."

 _Gentle Clyde,_

 _my damned heart, stills not._

 _I am vexed with your bewitchment,_

 _within the hazel of your attention I soar,_

 _on love so sweet & tender,_

 _it is beyond a feather's whisper._

 _My love,_

 _tis an ember that burns eternal,_

 _in the hearth, which only you reside over._

 _Only you,_

 _my gentle Clyde._

Eric felt himself swell with anxiety, "I know it's, it's stupid." He shook his head, unable to meet the other's eyes, "I'll just.." He started to climb to his feet, flushed as he tried to make a run for it. A hand grabbed his, stilling his movement. He flinched, refusing to look down.

"Cartman"

"Fuck off, okay? I have better places to be then waste my time on your pit-"

His hand was tugged on, and despite himself he found himself peering downwards, right on time for a hand to cradle the side of his face. Still bent over in an awkward pose, he watched in slow motion as Clyde sat up and rose on his bent knees, face drawn close to his own.

Shit, he'd never been this close to Clyde before. Enough that he noticed that the other's eyelashes were a pale brown, and just as he considered counting them, warm soft lips were pressed against his own. The pain of his back muscles were ignored completely, the swoop of his stomach and heartbeat pounding in his ears far more important.

The wave of delight as he returned the pressure, had his head swimming in a tantalizingly addictive way. All too soon the desire to breathe had him pulling away, the lack of oxygen and emotional connection had him panting. Plumes of hot air brushed his cheeks, and he relished in the fact that Clyde was just as out of breath.

The skin of his cheeks and the back of his neck burned feverishly as he smiled, expression tender as Clyde whispered, "Only you."

* * *

 _Later_

A silhouette oozed onto the table which held Clyde Frog, lingering as its owner intently stared at the worn out childhood toy. Gently placed beside it was its soon to be permanent partner, the Coon. And there they would stay, never far from the other.


End file.
